Vanished
by rockpaperscissor
Summary: All right, so Al could get pretty pissy when he was mad. But ignoring him for so long, and not even being obvious about it – that wasn’t Alphonse at all.
1. Chapter 1

"_For the last time_, I DON'T want dinner, I DON'T want to call Winry, and I _DON'T _want a stupid cat to trample all over my notes! Damn it, Al, can't you see I'm trying to _work_ here?!"

Al said nothing. The calico kitten in his arms meowed and pawed at the air in front of Edward, but Alphonse didn't even twitch a finger.

Ed blew out a slow breath, anger gradually deflating, and ran his flesh hand through golden forelocks. He knew it was just Al being Al, just his brother trying to help and take care of him and interrupting and being _fucking annoying_ –

Wait, he was trying to calm down, not rile himself up. Yeah. Deep breath, Ed.

"Listen, Al," he gritted out slowly, "I know we haven't gone anywhere lately, I know I've been cooped up in here for a while, and I _know_ you're pissed that we haven't gone to see anyone, but stop whining and listen up for a sec, okay? I think I've got something – here, take a look at this."

The boy pulled up a book and pointed to a paragraph in the middle of the page.

"If you take Gaunt's freelance energy principle and apply it to a disjunction array, there's an increased rate of demarcation of components - which is the normal, conventional method of disintegration, of course – _but,_ if you use this same principle for integration instead, then Pernello's Conflict is in effect with the particles, and they assemble _themselves, _withbarely any guidance to speak of," he explained excitedly, one arm waving about as he got caught up in his own enthusiasm. "Al, do you know what this could _mean_? I might have just found a way to…to…"

The suit of armor stood up stiffly, metal plates creaking and the kitten clutched snugly to his chest. Edward faded to silence as he felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of foreboding.

His little brother's stare had never seemed so cold.

"Al? What's wrong?"

Alphonse's voice was tight and brittle.

"_You_ are."

Ed's eyes widened for a scant moment, and he felt his hands tremble before he hastily moved them under the table to press painfully against his legs. He tried to see into Al's helmet, as if that way he could somehow see into his little brother's soul, the immaterial substance that somehow mobilized the lifeless metal structure - but then their eye contact was broken, and the armor looked away and strode to the door.

He panicked and blurted out, "Wait…!"

Al stopped walking, but didn't look back.

"Al," he tried, fumbling over the tightness lodged in his throat and words that refused to come out, "Al, I…what are you- why -"

"Sometimes, Brother," his brother cut him off, lowly and bitterly, "you make it really hard for anyone to like you."

…Ed didn't say anything when the door slammed shut.

* * *

Edward Elric yawned as he woke up to find his cheek pressed as usual against the leafy edge of a textbook, conjuring up interesting grooves and indentations on his face. A little pool of drool wetted the edge of another journal, and he disgustedly scrubbed at it with his sleeve before finally raising his head and opening his eyes fully. 

His gaze met with an unruly room, full of journals and books messily splayed in every available space. He sighed a little; when it came down to it, Ed was a very neat and organized person - that is, unless he became so involved in something that he forgot all else.

Which was what happened this time. Again.

Still, he knew where everything was, regardless – at the very least, it was an organized mess, he thought to himself as he stood and picked books off the floor, wiping away dirty fingerprints and straightening folded pages.

And yet, it very rarely got this bad, the boy frowned_. How long have I been in here? _he wondered. He recalled that at some point Al had rammed the door open, shouting 'Brother' and startling him so much that he nearly fell off his chair. Strangely enough, though, his brother had just as suddenly swept out of the room, and he remembered getting up and shutting the door in irritation, resolutely ignoring the racket Al was making in the other rooms.

When had that been? Everything seemed so hazy… "Hey, Al?"

Silence.

He scratched his head, tangled locks of hair bunching under his fingers.

"Al?" he stepped into the kitchen, and when he pulled the cupboard door open he was slightly horrified to see that it was absolutely, horridly empty.

There wasn't even a goddamned apple to bite into, for Pete's sake.

"How long has it _been_?" he muttered bewilderedly.

He raised his voice. "Hey, Al? I'm going to get some grub, all right? For some reason we're all out of food, and I'm _starving_. I feel like I haven't been out of that room in ages… yeah, and I guess I'll stop over by the Colonel's while I'm at it – jerkwad's probably going ballistic. So don't wait on me."

He made his way to the door just as it opened to reveal his younger brother, who mechanically walked past Ed and sat down listlessly on the sofa.

"There you are, Al," he said in relief, although there was a definite hint of irritation in his voice. "Hey, did you know that there isn't any-"

Something meowed, and Ed looked down at his legs. A calico kitten was rubbing against the sofa, staring after him with a strange glint in its eye as it meowed again.

Ed frowned. "Wait a minute, I know you…" he narrowed his eyes as it clicked in his head. "Damn it, Al, didn't I tell you to get rid of it? I keep telling you we can't keep a cat, and what do you do? You keep the goddamn cat!!"

"…What are _you_ hissing at?" Al asked despondently.

"I'm not -" Ed started to object, but silenced when Al picked up the cat and cradled her in his lap, stroking it gently and seeming oddly vulnerable for a six-foot suit of armor.

"Calm down. You're not helping, you know."

Ed sighed. Al was right, it wasn't worth arguing about. Not right now, anyway. "Fine, I'm sor-"

Al stood up, feline in hand, and wordlessly walked away.

Edward frowned, starting to get seriously pissed. He was trying to apologize, and Alphonse was fucking ignoring him?Oh, _hell _no. Screw it, Al was going too far with his spiteful little tantrums. Obviously it was time to show his little brother who's the older, wiser Elric here.

And so he followed Al, shooting barbs and yelling out obscenities – anything to get under his brother's skin (well, armor, technically) – all to no effect.

Al paused next to a door, and Ed recognized it to be the door to his study.

"Hey," he let out loudly, alarmed, "we said rooms are off-limits! You can't make a mess in my room, there are important things in there!"

His brother didn't answer. After a slight hesitation which seemed almost hopeful, Al opened the door.

Ed gaped. His room, which he could have sworn he'd _just _cleaned and organized, was once again a total mess. "What the crap? I just cleaned all that up!"

"Still the same…" Al whispered softly, and for once Ed didn't even begin to have a clue as to what his brother was thinking. "And…and he's still not-" he made a strange, choked sound and abruptly turned on his heels, leaving Edward standing there, confused.

_Really_ confused.

"Alphonse?" he called back after his brother, not particularly surprised anymore when he didn't receive an answer. Face pulled into a contemplative expression, he sat down on the ground (a rare corner free of strewn-about books) and tried to make heads or tails of the situation.

Fact #1: for some reason, Al was angry with him. Ed fuzzily seemed to recall having an argument of some sort a while back, but he didn't remember what happened afterwards. Besides of which, it really wasn't like Al to hold a grudge for so long. Did he really make him that mad? Despite the general opinion, Al did get angry, though rarely. And when he did, it was Armageddon for all those involved...

Fact #2: some strange shit was going on. His room was a mess, despite the fact that he _clearly _remembered cleaning it up and putting his things away. Unless someone was pulling his leg, something very odd was happening. Even stranger, he could have sworn that everything was the way it had been _before_ he'd gotten up to take care of it – the very same books were scattered across the floor, the shades were half-drawn, the same stacks of journals littered his table, and the pen he'd used was still in between the pages of _Eberti's Laws_, even though he had taken it out because he didn't need to recall that passage anymore. It was like he'd never touched the room since messing it up in the first place. Also, and perhaps most troubling, was that there was a disturbing lack offood in the house. Ed could admit that he could lose himself and forget all about eating, but he never starved himself on purpose. In fact, he made a point of filling the fridge whenever he got the chance. Why the kitchen was empty was completely beyond him.

Fact #3: Ed didn't like facts 1 and 2.

He tried to think things over again, get things to make sense.

No food in the house. Room a mess, as if he'd never touched it. The calico. Alphonse, angry at him.

He frowned. _Was _Al mad at him? Replaying the scene in his head, Edward realized his brother had acted strangely. Extremely strangely. And if he really thought about it, the conversation didn't really include him at all. For all he knew, Al had been talking to the damn cat.

Yet why would that be? All right, so Al could get pretty pissy when he was mad. But ignoring him for so long, and not even being obvious about it – that wasn't Alphonse at all.

It was almost like….like...

…Like Ed didn't _exist_…

"There you go."

Ed jumped, startled, then shifted into a fighting stance as he searched the room for the voice's owner. "Who's there?"

"Most people are much quicker about it, but you certainly took your time. Are you really the prodigy they say you are? They must be more careless with their compliments these days. Or perhaps simply too easily impressed."

Who the hell was this guy? "Whoever you are, show yourself!" he snapped, surveying the room with a sharp glare.

The deep voice sounded amused. "If you'd but make the effort to turn around, I'm sure you would be satisfied, Edward Elric."

Ed turned around in a whirl, then blinked.

Someone was sitting at his window.

* * *

_A/N:_ It's been a while, so I thought I'd post this up. It isn't high priority or anything, but I've been working on it for a while and thought I might as well show you guys what I've been up to. Tell me what you think. 

No worries, AoS is still ongoing... plot bunny hit me yesterday, and if it wasn't for those damn tests I'd be writing right now...

(makes fist) Curse you, higher education...!


	2. Chapter 2

It looked to be a middle-aged man, in dark jeans and a casual polo shirt Ed grumpily considered snobbish. He had faintly agreeable features, all right – bright, deep-set orbs of green, pointy nose and sleek brown hair peppered with gray – but his eyes had a perpetually bored look to them, as if he'd been changing channels and decided to stop at this one just because it was inconvenient to bother pressing buttons any longer. His hands were lodged heavily in the pockets of his pants, and overall he gave the general impression of laziness.

Edward immediately felt at ease, all too glad to be distracted from his previous train of thought. He felt like venting his frustrations on someone. That it may have also had something to do with the fact that the man was barely taller than him was not something he allowed himself to consider.

Instead, he immediately pounced on the opportunity to get angry, stepping forwards fiercely. "Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my apartment?! This is a private residence, jackass!"

In a movement that seemed uncannily quick and graceful, the man hopped off the table and flicked his fingers against Ed's forehead.

"Ow! You _bastard_!"

"Please save the rude language for the next time Colonel Mustang calls you short. I'm not here to be sworn at and insulted." He put a hand over his eyes and peered over at Ed through his fingers. "And I'd thank you to be a bit quieter. I have enough of a hangover from yesterday as it is."

Ed snorted, but straightened and folded his arms, sensing no physical danger. "That's rich, coming from someone who broke into my apartment." His face hardened. "You have ten seconds. Get out before I _make _you."

"Then I suppose you don't understand after all," the man mused to himself. "I thought I came at the right time, but perhaps I stepped in prematurely. I suppose I was too impatient."

His eyes narrowed. "Breaking in later is still breaking in."

The man chuckled, leaning against the desk with one hand. "No wonder they find you amusing. You're surprisingly obtuse for one of your reputation." He looked back to the boy. "Though the stubbornness _is_ in keeping with the stories, I'll admit."

"I'm not going to say it again," he warned. "_Out_."

"So you don't need my help, Edward Elric?"

"That's right."

Surprisingly, the intruder smiled. It was a smile completely empty of ridicule or irritation, and it annoyed Ed to no end.

Perhaps it was because of what he said next, though.

"Then you don't want to know why Alphonse is ignoring you?"

His heart skipped a beat and his hands snapped down to his sides, but he forced himself to respond nonchalantly, "Wha…. What the heck would you know?"

"And nothing you do seems to affect the things around you, does it? Things you had put away are back where they had been; doors you closed remain open. It's as if you never touched them in the first place."

Ed opened his mouth, closed it, furrowed his forehead, closed his eyes, opened them, and finally managed to stammer something coherent. "What… What's going on? Who are you?"

"Someone trying to do his job. You can call me Marty, though."

Ed looked at him incredulously. "Mar-"

For the first time, the man looked slightly irritated as he cut Ed off. "That's the name. You got a problem with it, tough." He waited a moment, then seeing that there were no smart-aleck remarks coming, continued, "All right. Shall we get on with it, then?"

"…Get on with what?"

The man looked as if he couldn't believe his ears. His overbearing, blustering attitude was forgotten as he stared at Edward incredulously. "Good heavens, is it not obvious?"

Ed cocked his head to the side. "What is?"

Marty let out a surprisingly crude curse and sharply turned his back to Edward.

"Screw the rules, I'm not going to wait until he finally gets it…" the boy heard him muttering as he fiddled with something Ed couldn't see. Whatever he was doing, it sounded a lot like when Winry got it into her head to take things apart piece by piece.

He turned his head, back still turned, and stated flatly, "You really don't understand."

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," Ed affirmed.

The man gave him a measuring, assaying glance. "This is a breach of contract, you realize."

"I don't, actually."

"Good." He finally turned all the way, and Ed could see now that he was holding something that looked remarkably like a calculator, except there were fewer buttons, and labels in a language he didn't recognize. "Here, take this."

"What is it?"

"Another breach of contract. Technically I'm the one supposed to transport you to wherever it is you need to go, but I really don't have the energy to lug you around today, so this will have to do in the meantime." He seemed to ponder something for a moment. "It should work, but I'll hold on to you just to be sure."

Ed wondered if the man would ever make sense. "Transport?"

Marty looked up to the ceiling, as if praying for some small measure of patience. "Just press the blue button."

The boy narrowed his eyes, but before he could open his mouth to ask, the strange man grabbed his arm and hit the device with an impatient forefinger.

A moment later, they were gone.

* * *

_A/N:_ I was glad to get such a response for the first chapter! Truly, you guys are awesome. 

Short chapter, isn't it? Well, if you guys like it I'll make myself get off my lazy butt and post the next part up soon.

Someone told me that this reminded them of the movie the Invisible. I dunno what that's about (I think I might have seen a commercial for it yesterday... not that I paid attention) but I swear this has been on my hard drive since October and I've never heard of the movie before. So um... yeah. Guess it's just freaky coincidence... that or someone's been copying me. The bastards.

...Just kidding. I'm sure it's not a very original premise - I didn't write this story with the intent of being original, just to exercise my creative juices and kick Ed around a bit.

(Poor Ed, I like doing that waaaaay too much...)


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

"What the-what the _hell_?" Ed gasped. Whatever Marty had done had felt like his insides had been gently pulled out through his eyes, which left him with a more than queasy stomach and the vague urge to mutilate something.

Or a certain someone.

The 'certain someone' placidly took out a cigarette and started patting his coat pockets in search for a lighter. "I believe in hand-on learning," he said serenely, cigarette clenched between his teeth as he continued his search. "Explaining matters to you is obviously useless. I'll let you see it for yourself."

"See what?" Ed began to ask, but then his attention was caught on something from the corner of his eye.

He turned, eyes widening.

"Col-Colonel?" he stammered, staring at the raven-haired man sitting casually at his desk, head bowed as he scanned carefully whatever documents were laid out in front of him. They had to be rather important, some part of Ed thought distantly, for the lazy ass to actually be reading them instead of just slacking off as usual. A smaller part of him noted that the bastard looked rather tired for some reason.

...But most of Ed was really just bewildered.

"What – how-" he looked about the room, dazedly, "-what are we doing in your office?"

Roy Mustang looked up into Ed's eyes with a glance that was profoundly disturbing for how utterly unconcerned and _normal _it was - as if he was completely ignoring the fact he was looking at another human being.

"It's getting late," the man muttered, frowning slightly before turning his gaze back to his work.

It was just like Al.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean, shithead?! Too good to even make a short joke, are you?!!" Ed yelled, trying to cover up his nerves and that inexplicable sense of dread that had struck him when he'd first opened the door of his study to find an empty apartment. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, you good-for-nothing fucking asshole!"

Roy reached for another piece of paper, sighing.

Edward slapped his hands on the jerk's desk, heart for some reason pounding wildly. The bastard was still ignoring him, curse him!

"_Dammit_, Mustang, answer me!" he cried. "I'm _talking_ to you!"

…Nothing.

The Flame Alchemist hadn't even blinked.

The fifteen-year-old bit his lip. "If this is because of Al, or – or 'cuz I didn't come in in a while - I'm sorry, okay? I just – I didn't-"

"He was looking at the clock," Marty cut in nonchalantly, slowly exhaling smoke and tucking a green lighter back into his pocket.

Ed's head turned, forehead furrowing.

"What?"

"Behind you," the man explained, gesturing to the wall where a wooden analog clock was ticking. "He wasn't looking _at_ you, Edward Elric.

"He was looking _through _you."

* * *

Ed froze, golden eyes widening.

'_Not looking'… he didn't… what? That doesn't make __**sense**_

He brought his hand close to his face and stared at it.

It _seemed _normal. Solid.

_Then why… why couldn't he see me?_

He stole a glance at the man who allegedly brought him here. Ma-what's-his-face.

_He knew my name. He can see me. _

_But Mustang can't._

_Does that mean…am I dead? And that lazy drunkard that brought me here… he's an… an ang- No, that's stupid. I don't believe in that kind of crap. Come on, Ed, focus. There has to be some kind of logical explanation._

…_Is there a form of alchemy that can make someone invisible? I wouldn't think that was possible – even if invisibility was scientifically plausible, you would have to transfigure every individual atom in your body, which would be impractical since a human body constantly replaces and exchanges atoms with its environment. Besides of which, Mustang doesn't seem to even hear me, and I know__ for a fact that sound waves can't be messed around with by alchemy. _

_So that leaves me with… what?_

Marty leaned his back against a filing cabinet. "Get it now?"

Edward pressed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, forcing calm into his voice. "What'd you do to me?"

Marty looked amused. "Me? _I_ had nothing to do with it."

His fist hit the wall before he even realized he'd moved. "What the _hell_ happened to me?"

The man flicked the ashes from the cigarette to the floor, where Ed noticed they disappeared into nothing. "Someone wished for something, and they decided to grant it," he replied simply.

This answer didn't make sense at all. But suspending reality for a moment, he decided to play the asshole's game. "You just give any idiot what he wants? What the fuck is _wrong_ with you people?"

Marty corrected irritably, "I said 'they', thereby implying not me. I don't get to make these kinds of decisions. Pretty low on the corporate ladder, as it happens."

Not surprising, Ed thought sourly. "Who's 'they'?"

He shook his head. "Can't tell you, kid, but trust me, it isn't really that big a deal. All you need to know is that some things out there are pretty damn powerful."

Ed scowled, but accepted the answer. "And what did I do to deserve being their guinea pig?"

Marty walked over to Mustang's desk and sat on it, apparently making himself comfortable. The sight was rather disturbing to the boy, as he happened to sit right on the documents Mustang was working on, and it was beyond weird to see the Colonel continue working when some guy's butt was right in front of him.

_Talk about mentally scarring, _Ed thought disgustedly.

"Truth is, the illustrious 'they' who did this to you and sent me here are actually a bit… haphazard, I suppose. Like to feel benevolent once in a while. They watch what happens in the world, and occasionally, when the mood strikes, or a very powerful desire is made known, they decide to interfere. In this case, they decided to make you disappear."

"Why?"

Marty shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe they think it's important."

He wrinkled his forehead. "Is this supposed to be punishment? It's that important that no one can see me?" he asked skeptically. "That's just annoying," he remarked, completely forgetting his initial reaction to the idea. If he could still do alchemy, it could even be useful. Ed could research in peace, with no one breathing down his neck or knowing what he was up to, he could go wherever he wanted…

Ha. See if the bastard could send him on those missions now…! he chortled silently.

And those books Mustang refused to give him clearance for?

_So_ not a problem.

"Perhaps the intention was not so much to punish you as to rid the world of your less than agreeable presence," Marty suggested rather bluntly. "Not everything is necessarily about you, you know. If the wish had been evil or selfish in nature, it wouldn't have been granted. As it is, you are unharmed but for your incapacity to affect your environment."

_Guess that means no alchemy._

In that case…"Unharmed? _Unharmed?_" Ed cried in disbelief. "I've got _important_ things to do, you asshole!" His voice turned low and dangerous. "Fix me, Marty, or I _swear_, I-"

"You'll what?" he was interrupted casually. "Kill me, and lose your chance to understand what's going on? Stay like this forever?"

Ed blanched, feeling as if he'd just ran into a brick wall, horrified that someone could… think _him_ capable of…

"I…I wouldn't have…" he stammered, "…I… I _don't_. I _can't…_"

The steely green gaze softened slightly. Marty took another long drag on his cigarette, and only after he'd exhaled a ring of smoke did he speak.

"Listen kid, I don't blame you for being ticked. But there's a reason to this, you just have to figure it out. Trust me, my bosses didn't do this just to mess with you. Right now, your best bet is to cooperate with me."

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Just to prove to you guys that I haven't completely abandoned the FMA fandom... I swear I'll get working on everything as soon as I can. Until then, this extra long chapter should tide you over...

Love you guys! Don't give up on me yet!

* * *


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